


Like a Flower Towards the Sun

by labocat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labocat/pseuds/labocat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too much of a coincidence for Oikawa to get a new neighbor and a new member of his Quidditch team in the same week, but he can't reconcile his memories of Ushijima Wakatoshi with the Herbologist who just moved in next door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Flower Towards the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ideallyqualia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideallyqualia/gifts).



Oikawa knew the night he had a new neighbor because it was the night he almost broke his neck over said new neighbor’s gift.

It had been dark, he had been tired, and he certainly hadn’t been expecting a potted plant in the center of his doorway. It was only quick reflexes - honed by long hours on the Quidditch pitch and falling off of brooms - that flung his hands out in front of him to transform the fall into a roll, desperately avoiding the piles of shoes left where he’d simply kicked them off and the step of the _genkan_ that his neck definitely would have hit had he not been so always on top of his game.

“What the-,” he cursed, rubbing the back of his head where he hadn’t been quite so quick as to prevent rolling into the wall.

The plant, sitting innocently and not even tipped over from its disturbance, gave no reply but he could have sworn its leaves rustled slightly as if to rearrange itself into its best display as he glared at it. He sighed; certainly no blame could lie with it, with its wide, heart-shaped leaves and rolled purple buds, looking entirely cherubic and welcoming. No, the blame lay entirely on whoever had attached the note to its pot with a yellow ribbon, all but mocking Oikawa with its cheerful color in the darkness of his apartment entrance.

He looked out to the walkway quickly, to see if the noise had summoned any of his neighbors, new or otherwise. The apartments to both sides of him were dark; unless Otone-san had moved out without telling him, the assassination attempt had come from the unit to his left. They hadn’t put up a name-plate yet and the note on the plant had been utterly generic and unsigned, so he could only narrow his eyes at the door before scooping up the pot and stomping into his apartment with all the dignity he could muster.

Once inside, he snapped a picture of the plant and sent it to Iwaizumi.

> Sent 10:59PM
> 
> Iwa-chan, someone tried to kill me today! With a plant! They even moved into my apartment to ensure they got close enough to me to try!
> 
>  
> 
> 11:01PM
> 
> Dumbass, they’re just trying to be a good neighbor and give you a gift. Would it kill you to do something welcome in return? You know, other than not being obnoxious at all hours, which they’d probably appreciate?
> 
>  
> 
> Sent 11:02PM
> 
> I’ll have you know I’m a perfect neighbor! I don’t open my front windows, I take all my laundry down on time, I have full control of any spells I do, they /should/ give me a plant to thank me for being their neighbor!
> 
> 11:02PM
> 
> Idiot, bake them something and welcome them to the complex. And don’t put any fuda on their door. I’ll know if you do.
> 
> 11:07PM
> 
> The plant looks like an anthurium, btw. Just keep it warm and don’t over-water it and you shouldn’t kill it like you have everything else.

Oikawa tossed his phone onto the table and sighed, “you’re lucky you’re pretty and your owner probably is actually a nice person. Otherwise you’d be out with the burnable trash.” He reached out one hand to caress one of the leaves, jolting back slightly as a hum of the trace of magic in the leaves echoed on his fingertips. He had been certain he was the only wizard in the complex, but clearly that had changed.

With another deep sigh - he was definitely going to get wrinkles early at this rate - he looked up anthuriums on his phone and placed the pot in an appropriate corner. There was enough to worry about now to ensure he’d sleep deeply. He’d make a note to pick up ingredients for peach tarts tomorrow.

\------

Mahoutokoro hadn’t been small, but it hadn’t been large, either - no more than five sections split each year. Yet it still felt like an open field compared to the magical community at Tokyo University: Oikawa’s classes were small and specialized - ritual magic and paper charms as his main focus - no more than five people per class. The same five people, day in, day out, with only slight variation depending on what class was in session that day. His only reprieve was club Quidditch, when he at least got to see other witches and wizards from all over the prefecture, not just those attending Todai. He’d been keeping an eye out for new students on the magical end of the Todai campus even though he’d told himself it was equally likely his new neighbor was no longer a student - the fact that their complex was within walking distance of campus meant little in a city like Tokyo or to a community that could Apparate at will if they were late. Even so, he was sulking a little by the end of the day as he headed towards the pitch that there had been no new faces on the magical side of campus, grateful that today was a practice day, glad for the distraction.

“Hey, Oikawa! Come over here and meet the new recruit!” Their manager waved Oikawa over as he approached, gesturing to a broad back and finishing, “he’s fresh from training with the Toyohashi Tengu, but he decided to come back up to Tokyo. Just our luck to get a Chaser who’s been on the national team; we’ll wipe the smirks off the faces of the Nagoya Naga and their Keeper this year for sure!”

The grin was broad on Oikawa’s face and he was all set to introduce himself as befit a proper captain when the broad shoulders turned and his lips flattened into a thin line instead.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima said, inclining his head slightly. His expression was as blank as ever, and Oikawa wondered briefly if he ever smiled. He searched his memory of their years at Mahoutokoro, alternately grumbling and grateful they’d never been in the same section any of their years there. They’d been in competition for most of it, sections pitted against each other in Quidditch matches and dueling tournaments even though the sections shifted composition every year. There had only been one time they’d been on the same team, and abruptly, Oikawa remembered Ushijima’s smile and wished he hadn’t, desperately trying to school his features into something that covered the flush he could feel on his cheeks.

“I didn’t know you were training with the Tengu,” Oikawa replied stiffly, the previous enthusiasm in his pose shifting frantically into an attempt at a smirk as his brain tried to process the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi was standing there, on his Quidditch pitch, as the newest member of his team. He _had_ known, of course; it had been all but impossible to ignore with the way every Quidditch news site had been talking about how the new young Chaser had the possibility to take the Tengu further than they’d ever been in the World Cup. But Ushijima didn’t need to know that, or that he had hung onto his copies of Quidditch Quarterly that featured the Tengu longer than he really should have.

“Only briefly; I knew I wanted to come to Tokyo and continue studying, but they wanted me to play for them for a couple years and they made me a good offer. I’d also heard you were captaining the club team for Tokyo even though you remained a Seeker,” Ushijima’s head tilted slightly, like he was appraising Oikawa. It set him on edge, even though there was nothing in Ushijima’s gaze that looked like he found Oikawa lacking. It was the principle of the thing.

“What, you didn’t think I could do it, so came to see for yourself?” he spat out, internally cringing at his tone. What _was_ it about Ushijima that always set him off?

Ushijima, however, remained just as infuriatingly calm as ever as he said, “no, I knew you could do it. I simply wanted to add my skills to your team. You already know we work well together.”

Oikawa hated the way he could feel his cheeks heating at that and tried to cover, blustering, “of course I can do it! You are, assuming, of course, that you’ll pass try-outs!” He brushed past his confused manager who was clearly trying to remember if they’d ever held try-outs previously and clapped his hands to catch the attention of the rest of the team, trying to calm his racing pulse and ignore the small warmth in his chest at the fact that Ushijima remembered and still thought highly of him.

Ushijima passed the arbitrary try-outs with flying colors, of course, and the Kanda Kappa had a new Chaser. Giving Oikawa a new distraction from the Snitch that was definitely not on any approved training regimens.

Really, it was unfair how at home Ushijima looked on a broom.

\------

Three weeks later, Oikawa was convinced his neighbor was a Disney princess. The peach tarts had been left and (presumably) consumed, the anthurium was thriving, and Oikawa had seen no further trace of his newest neighbor. Oh, there had been exchanged notes - the note left on the cleaned tray that had held the tarts returned to him, the bit of lined paper passed back and forth on proper anthurium care - among other things, hearing the door open or close, and once, a rather startling crash around dinner that left Oikawa wondering if he should go over with a plate of leftovers in case his neighbor’s dinner was now ruined. No glimpses, though, and Oikawa found himself having to keep himself from jumping up when he heard the tell-tale click of the door or footsteps on the walkway, just to go and see who his neighbor was. There was still no nameplate, but as Oikawa had never put one up himself, he couldn’t cast stones, even as he grumbled about it to Iwaizumi.

But nothing made him as curious as the jungle that had developed on the neighboring balcony. Their complex’s balconies were small, really only enough to hang a week’s load of laundry up in or just suitable for a smoke break, but Oikawa’s neighbor had transformed their balcony into an oasis, overflowing with plants and birdfeeders. Oikawa hadn’t even known that some of the types of birds he could now regularly see from his couch even lived in Tokyo. He’d known, from the spark of magic he’d gotten from the anthurium, that his new neighbor had an affinity for Herbology, and it certainly explained how all the plants on the balcony were all so healthy all the time, but it didn’t prepare him for the sheer amount of dedication and _love_ he could feel from the amount and variety of plants present. It calmed him every time he stepped onto his own balcony, and to a lesser extent, every time he glanced at the anthurium, starting to bloom, its rolled buds unfurling into delicately curved purple petals.

Every now and then, Oikawa entertained the idea of knocking on his neighbor’s door, one of those nights when he knew they were home. But that was crossing the line to stalking, admitting to listening for their sounds of habitance, and if there was one thing Oikawa Tooru did not do, it was be the one doing the stalking.

\------

Oikawa had been only slightly surprised at how easily Ushijima slipped into the team framework he had built. There had only been a token protest from a few members wondering why he wasn’t a Beater with his physique, but one drill later, between Oikawa’s calls and Ushijima’s instincts, the team's play had been seamless and the joy and possibility of taking the league championship swallowed any dissent. Ushijima had always been one of the best Quidditch players in their year - Oikawa would never admit it out loud, but it felt nice to have that on his side for once.

It was a dual-edged sword: the team worked together better than ever, but Oikawa found his eyes drifting more and more often from the practice Snitch to the Chasers as they drilled, to Ushijima’s arms and the muscles bunching as the Quaffle left his hand in a blur towards the goal. Their Keeper still had yet to adjust to his left-handed throws, but it was with a good-natured laugh that he let it through, calling out to go a little easier next time, and Oikawa had to shake his head to chase off the warm feeling in his chest at how well his team was working together.

It would be too easy for Ushijima to be his new neighbor. The timing was right, the wizardry was right, but Oikawa just couldn’t match up his feelings. The raw power Ushijima displayed on the pitch and the brute force magic Oikawa remembered from their duels at Mahoutokoro didn’t match up with the delicacy and warmth of the verdant jungle of his neighbor. Besides, he’d learned that Ushijima was at Waseda, known for its battle magic program, which he remembered Ushijima excelling at. It was the easiest solution, but the edges didn’t match and so Oikawa settled on coming to terms with being overwhelmed by Ushijima’s presence at practice and his stomach fluttering each time he caught sight of his neighbor’s garden or a new note on his door and wondering if it were possible to be falling for two people at once.

\------

“To Ushijima Wakatoshi, a damned prodigy!”

Glasses clinked, and Oikawa was surprised that he could laugh, light-hearted, at the words, instead of the curl of dissatisfaction and anger-longing he normally felt at the thought of prodigies, of Ushijima winning. He would attribute it to the general thrill of victory, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart jumped remembering that excess of goals, large enough that he’d stopped looking for the Snitch almost entirely in favor of calling plays Ushijima executed as if they were of one mind. Or the way Ushijima looked at him when Oikawa flung his arm over his shoulder in celebration. He’d yet to move it; it was easy, with Ushijima left-handed and barely sipping at his drink at that, to leave it there.

It felt right, and that warmed Oikawa as much as scared him.

By the time goodbyes were said and the team parted ways, Oikawa could tell it was far later than he thought. The world was slanted, and it had taken him a few farewells to realize it was because his head was resting on Ushijima’s shoulder, his eyes slipping closed periodically, the exhaustion of the day long caught up with him.

He made a protesting noise as the shoulder underneath him jostled, pushing his face further into it sleepily instead of sitting up.

“Oikawa, you can’t sleep here.”

“Just watch me.”

The shoulder raised slightly and held before dropping in a deep sigh; Oikawa had a fleeting thought that he really would be more comfortable in his own bed, but for now he was close to sleep and that was good enough.

“What’s your station?” Ushijima murmured. Oikawa started to form a reply before the world shifted yet again.

“Hmm...what?” When the world righted, he was aware of Ushijima’s head next to his own and the distinct realization Ushijima was carrying him piggy-back.

“What’s your station?” Ushijima repeated, shifting Oikawa slightly as he headed up the street and towards the station.

“Nezu,” Oikawa somehow managed to mumble, letting out another sound of protest at the sudden stop Ushijima made. He could feel Ushijima’s head turning to look at him and he mustered enough energy to open his eyelids and peer back at the quizzical look aimed at him. He could have sworn he felt a chuckle ripple through Ushijima’s body, but Oikawa merely tightened his grip and urged Ushijima on.

He wasn’t going to give up a free piggy-back ride, after all.

Ushijima had let him down at the station and had offered to get him a canned coffee, but Oikawa had just shaken his head, instead leaning once again against Ushijima and refusing to acknowledge the comfort he drew from it. They were the only people on the platform this late and in the silence of the night, it was easy. Too easy.

“D’you remember that field day, our last year? That was a good field day,” he mumbled, exhaustion making the syllables run together. Oikawa could recognize how little sense he was making, what a non-sequitur it was, but it seemed important, with the memory of their victory today, the memory of that day, and the memory of Ushijima, just months ago, saying he remembered how well they worked together all overlapping in his head.

“I remember,” Ushijima said, steadying Oikawa with one hand. Oikawa thought he should protest the fact that Ushijima wasn’t moving his hand off of his shoulder, but it was warm, a welcome weight, and he hummed assent instead.

“We won. I know it wasn’t a big deal for your section, but it was a big deal to me.”

“It was thanks to you, to your calls.”

Oikawa’s mouth had already been open, to retort with a roll of his eyes that of _course_ it was Ushijima’s skills as a Chaser that had won the day and no one else had helped, but it shut abruptly at Ushijima’s words.

“As a Seeker, you’re positioned to watch the game and learn everyone’s movements and interplay. How quickly you picked up everyone’s strengths and gave instructions to players you didn’t have any familiarity with was instrumental to how we won. It’s how I knew I wanted to come to Tokyo when I heard you were captaining a team here.”

Oikawa was saved from having to reply by the arrival of the train, but even the way he’d been rubbing at his face in a poor attempt to chase away the sleep couldn’t cover the way his cheeks flushed at the compliment. He’d been able to tell that Ushijima held him in high regard during their practices, but he hadn’t realized it was so long-standing.

The train ride, short though it was, was spent in an awkward silence, Oikawa trying his hardest to stay awake and not lean sideways onto the broad shoulder Ushijima offered.

“I’m okay from here, my apartment isn’t far from the station,” Oikawa blurted as the train announcement for Nezu came on and he stood, followed shortly by Ushijima. “You don’t need to carry me the entire way home, you know,” he added as Ushijima joined him at the train doors.

“This is my stop too,” Ushijima said, and Oikawa tried in vain to stamp down the frantic flutter that started in his heart and stomach. Could it-? Was he right, after all?

Oikawa couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder as he walked to his apartment, Ushijima just one step and to the left behind him. By the time they’d made it through the turns down side streets and he turned into his complex and started up the stairs, Ushijima still at his heels, he’d all but expected it. It was the only reason he didn’t burst out laughing, despite the hour, at Ushijima pulling out his keys and slotting them into the door next to his own. His new neighbor to the left.

“The anthurium is thriving, thanks to you,” Oikawa said as he opened his own door, leaning between it and the frame and looking towards Ushijima without meeting his eyes, heart in his throat. “The color was a nice touch,” he added softly, remembering the color of the cuffs and trim of Ushijima’s robes their last year at Mahoutokoro and how they matched the flowers that now bloomed in abundance.

“I didn’t know,” Ushijima offered. Oikawa could tell he was looking straight at him and if he only shifted his gaze a little, he’d meet that intense stare. “I’d hoped, after the tarts.” He paused, and Oikawa thought that the set of Ushijima’s shoulders was almost sheepish. “I’d hoped, after that first month,” he said.

The month they’d exchanged notes about the care of the anthurium, small flirtations and scribbles from Oikawa alongside suggestions on plants to look into if the anthurium was flourishing, warm wishes for a good day.

“But, you go to Waseda,” Oikawa started, unsure of how to continue. “You were on the battle magic track at school…,” he trailed off.

“Waseda’s Herbology department is one of the best in the country in addition to specializing in offensive spellcasting. They offered me a scholarship and the ability to study both battle magic and Herbology. Given those options and the chance to play Quidditch with you again, there was no real decision.”

There was a silence long enough Oikawa would have wondered briefly if he’d fallen asleep against his door if he couldn’t still feel Ushijima’s stare prickling along his skin, as if it were the only thing keeping him upright with its heavy weight.

“Where did you learn to do that with plants?” Oikawa waves his hand vaguely in the direction of their balconies, of the jungle, desperate to make all the pieces fit together, to make everything he'd built up in his mind real. “Mahoutokoro was a rock.” He remembered their Herbology classes being little more than an add-on to Potions or Care of Magical Creatures, depending on the year. He certainly knew more about the uses of pine branches in purification spells than about how to grow anything properly.

Somehow Ushijima managed to shrug without his gaze losing intensity, the slow blink only drawing Oikawa’s attention instead of lessening the pressure. “My family has always had an aptitude for plants, both magical and non. I chose to pursue it; it’s quite calming.” His head tilted as he considered Oikawa and Oikawa suddenly found it harder to breathe as Ushijima’s stare softened into something warmer and he continued, “hasn’t the anthurium been calming to have?”

Ushijima stepped forward, away from his door and into Oikawa’s space; Oikawa could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, but as soon as he shifted his gaze to meet Ushijima’s properly, it all fell away. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed the last distance on his own until he realized it was his own momentum that pressed into Ushijima, lips slightly open as they pressed against his. He stepped back almost as quickly, face on fire but defiant in holding Ushijima’s surprised eyes as the pieces slotted into place. 

His lips relaxed into a smile, softer than the smirk he usually teased Ushijima with, and was gratified to see an echoing softening in Ushijima’s eyes to match the warmth that had gathered there. “It’s been very calming. Thank you.”

The spark that jumped to his fingertips when Ushijima took the hand that Oikawa offered was the same as that which had jumped from the leaf those months ago, and in it Oikawa recognized all the warmth and love he’d come to associate with his neighbor and turned towards it like a flower towards the sun as Ushijima wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him in for another kiss, soft and slow and patient.

**Author's Note:**

> My wonderful beta and friend went above and beyond the call of duty and drew a lovely Ushijima and Oikawa from this AU! Please check it out and give her favorites and be as starry-eyed as I am! https://twitter.com/nartfarts/status/768636145554956288/photo/1


End file.
